Justice
by Nerd of Camelot
Summary: Even after Rose's death, after everything that happened, all Sparrow wanted was to believe there was good in the world. He wanted to believe Albion was worth fighting for - and he wanted justice. Oneshot.


Revenge had never been Sparrow's goal.

Looking at the other three heroes as he raised his gun, he remembered that fact. He wondered if they knew that - if they realized that he wasn't driven by revenge, like Hammer. Or by necessity, like Garth. And he most _certainly_ wasn't driven by greed, like Reaver. Revenge was _never_ what he wanted.

It may have seemed that way, looking back. It may have appeared, outwardly, that everything he did was for revenge. He had done the minimal amount of side quests, only helping random villagers if he was feeling particularly generous, and he had raced through the tasks Theresa gave him. When he didn't feel like going on a mission she had assigned, he wandered the regions and practiced his fighting.

An outsider may have thought he was gathering strength for the final confrontation with Lucien, but that was not the case.

Even with all the Will Lucien possessed, even with all the power the Spire had given him… He was just an old man. Sparrow knew that. He knew that he could end the man's life with a single shot - and that's what he was planning to do. He cocked the gun, taking aim even as Lucien continued to speak.

This wasn't about revenge, he reminded himself as he lined the shot up with the center of Lucien's forehead. He wasn't trying to avenge Rose's death. He wasn't trying to rectify her murder by taking Lucien's life. All he wanted… All he had _ever_ wanted…

He hesitated. Was this really what he had become? Was he really capable of taking an old, frail man's life? He supposed he was - he had taken the lives of many others, mostly bandits who had fired the first shot. They never submitted to him, never gave up until they breathed their last breath. He never had a choice but to kill them. He had stopped trying to find reason for killing them.

Why was Lucien any different from them? Why did he hesitate to pull the trigger now, of all times?

 _This isn't what you wanted._ The thought hit him with the full force of a White Balverine. _This is revenge. This is murder._

Lucien was only a weak old man who had been driven insane by the loss of his family and the power of the Spire. He probably had no clue what he was doing anymore.

Sparrow didn't think he could do it. Lucien continued to ramble on, and Sparrow just stood there, gun aimed and ready. What was he doing? Why couldn't he pull the trigger? _This isn't what you wanted._ His mind said again.

Looking closer at Lucien, he felt something rising in his chest. Some feeling fighting it's way out of the hesitation. It burst through, suddenly, completely without warning. Resentment.

More feelings followed.

Anger, hatred, pity, despair, fear, anxiety, desperation... All the feelings he'd been pushing aside since he began this journey. Everything he'd tried to bottle up for over ten years. It all came bursting through him. And then he remembered Lucien's crimes. Remembered all the people who had died because of him. Died at his hands.

 _Yes._ Sparrow thought, _This is what I wanted. This isn't revenge. This is justice._ His finger teased at the trigger, _This is exactly what I wanted._

Lucien had killed the only family Sparrow had. He'd killed Hammer's father. He'd killed countless innocent citizens in his haste to finish the Spire. He'd experimented on able-bodied men and created the Commandants…. He'd killed his dog, Blitz. Justice would be a quick end to his reign of terror; revenge would be watching him suffer from countless wounds, writhing in agony.

 _Justice._

He pulled the trigger. The gunshot resounded in his ears. His eyes were locked with Lucien's - he watched the light fade from them as his body reeled back and blood exploded from the back of his head. Lucien's lips were still forming a word as his knees buckled and his legs propelled him away from Sparrow. He fell. Dropped right off the side and plummeted hundreds of feet down.

If he hadn't been dead from Sparrow's bullet, Sparrow reasoned that the bone shattering impact with the ground would have killed him.

The next few minutes went by in a blur as opposed to the previous ones. They had dragged by like someone had used Time Control on him.

He wished for the needs of the many - he couldn't choose the needs of the few in good conscience, nor the needs of the one. He'd have felt terrible, and even though it meant he'd never see his dog or his sister again, he needed to feel like he'd done something good for everyone.

Hammer congratulated him for his choice, but the hollow feeling of loneliness that began to gnaw at him left him unable to feel happy about that.

When Theresa finally transported him back to Bowerstone, he had to resist the urge to tear up and sob and scream into the wind that it wasn't fair. All he had ever wanted, he had gotten. He had wanted justice for the death of his sister, and he had wanted to believe there was still good in the world. He had gotten both… And if he wasn't being vain in saying so, he'd say he was about the only good to come out of this time period.

It seemed to him a visit to the ever-peaceful town of Oakfield was in order. Maybe staying there would do him some good.


End file.
